


Promises

by zaelish



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin is angry, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, I think about this arc a lot, M/M, and then angry again, and then sad, could be read as both romantic and not but cmon you cannot deny that they love each other, from a certain point of view, kinda??, mentions of others - Freeform, please help him OBI-WAN HE NEEDS LOVE, set right after the arc in which obi-wan fakes his death to go undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 18:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15149117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaelish/pseuds/zaelish
Summary: Post Season 4, Episode 18:  Anakin never did know how to let go, but he also refuses to learn.





	Promises

Anakin tries not to think about it, hopes he can forget it ever happened. There’s no _point_ in mulling it over—it‘s done, it’s all over now—their mission completed, the chancellor rescued, Eval and Bane locked up, Obi-Wan back in his old skin. 

Obi-Wan back safe.

Obi-Wan is right here next to him and still Anakin feels like he’s slipping from his grasp. As if he’s not _secure_ in some way, as if he’s something Anakin is holding on to for safekeeping and somehow failing to. He’s pinning his former Master to the bed with his arm thrown across his chest, pressing down just a bit so that the man cannot leave him again. Not now, not ever. 

Obi-Wan squirms a little under the weight of his metal arm, in response to which Anakin unconsciously tightens his grip.

“Anakin—"

“What?” The Jedi Knight tries not to wince at the unrestrained bite in his response. The older man lets out a weary sigh, shifting uncomfortably to adjust to a better position and stills after a few moments. 

“Anakin. I know you’re angry. But I already explained to you why I did it.”

Anakin can’t keep the residual bitterness out of his voice, his very words. “You could have explained it better. But you didn’t _have_ a good reason to explain in the first place, did you?” 

Sighing is by now one of Obi-Wan’s most natural and automatic bodily functions. “I told you, multiple times, that only with your reaction could my death be believable. The Council has agreed—" Obi-Wan realizes too late that mentioning the Council may not have been the best idea at the moment, seeing how Anakin is still bristling with the self-assured notion of the masters simply not trusting him enough with the truth, preferring to keep him lost and grieved in the dark.

“You used me,” Anakin hisses through gritted teeth, a bitter sound of betrayal. “You and your damn council. You used me and exploited my emotions that you yourself have told me time and time again to keep in check. And don’t even try to tell me again that you didn’t have another choice.”

“I—“

“Don’t even start. You _know_ I could have helped just fine.”

“I _know_ that this was the only way to try to keep you still for once!” If only to try to get Anakin to listen, Obi-Wan raises his voice. “Although that didn’t do much, naturally.” He shuts his eyes and sucks in a deep breath, struggling to find the right words of appeasement.

Though it appears that his latest ones only manage to do more harm than good. Anakin raises his head, face contorted with disbelief. “Keep me still?! You couldn’t, oh I don’t know, explain everything and ask me nicely instead of trying to kriffing manipulate me? What am I, your pet monkey to throw about as you please?”

Obi-Wan props himself up on his elbow as soon as Anakin loosens his clutch, turns to face him and look straight into his eyes, determined to get through to the young man. “Anakin, that was not my intention and you know this.” He raises a hand to keep the Knight from interrupting as soon as he opens his mouth to object. “I admit it could have been executed better or differently, though I’m not sure how exactly, but at the moment of making that decision I felt I didn’t have a more efficient choice that would benefit _the mission_ , not specifically you, not anyone. Yes, the Council lied to you, but it was my choice entirely. Yes, I lied to you. And believe me, I hated every second of it, but I had to, in order to keep you safe—"

A bitter scoff cuts him off. “You don’t get to talk about safety when you put _your_ life on the line without even telling me. At the very least, you could have just trusted me to sit tight rather than trying to force me to do it. Or— hell, I could have looked out for you, but instead you jump headfirst into danger all by yourself. I could have helped, but all I did instead was—“ Anakin’s own thoughts interrupt him and it takes a moment of dead silence for the nagging realization he’s been failing to suppress to douse the fires of accusation in his eyes. It’s a frightening memory that he’d do anything to forget, it creeps up on him while still fresh in his mind, haunting. His throat tightens and he almost chokes on his escaping breath. “I could have killed you.”

There’s a sadness in Obi-Wan’s eyes that Anakin’s abruptly hushed words rouse. The same sadness is in his tone when he speaks, although the hurt from both the thankfully avoided possibilities as well as Anakin’s destructive reactions he tries to mask with his regular calmness, a quiet assurance that is his best bet to soothe the young man. “You didn’t. That is all done, Anakin.” 

“You’re lucky Bane was there to subdue me,” Anakin continues as though he wasn’t interrupted, words wavering just barely with the echoes of unmaterialized fears. “I just— What if he wasn’t— I could have sliced you in half—”

“Anakin.”

“You would have been dead for real—"

“ _Anakin!_ ”

Anakin sucks in a sharp breath and looks away, his voice quiet and thick. “How could you do that to us? To Satine, Padmé?” The accusation returns to his tone as he finds Obi-Wan’s gaze again with a renewed confidence. “To Ahsoka?” The Jedi master keeps still in an attempt not to wince with creeping guilt, though says nothing, allowing Anakin space to spill whatever is on his mind. “She cried, Master. She couldn’t sleep afterwards— She cried, holding you in her very arms and watching your vitals drop—can you even imagine what that’s like?”

Obi-Wan lies back down at his side and closes his eyes, pursing his lips at the pain in Anakin’s voice that he’s trying so hard to shield with chiding anger.

“And I, I was... so angry at you when the Council confirmed you were alive, I just… I had to see you, right then, to really make sure—” The same pain seeps into the Force through the cracks in the barriers of Anakin’s mind, it’s thrashing and it’s unyielding and it takes Obi-Wan’s all to not gather the boy into his arms right then. But no, Anakin is not a boy anymore, he hasn’t been one for a long time. It’s written in his expression, in the faint tingles of mocking disgust in the words he quietly spits. “But you were Force knows where, playing bounty hunter and leaving people who love you to suffer in confidential silence, unable to help.”

Regardless of how sorry or guilty he’s made to feel, Obi-Wan can’t ignore the fact that Anakin is walking around in circles again. In any case, the Knight is hurting and his pain is contagious—anything that the Chosen One feels is contagious, really, his influence in the Force overpowering and uncompromising, but the Master triumphs over his bubbling emotions with years of discipline. “Anakin, if you want me to apologize again, I will. I'll say it over and over again if it’ll make you feel better—I truly am sorry.” 

His apology is left unheard, however. He wonders if anything he says to his former student will ever not be. 

“How could you do that to _me_?” Anakin croaks after a long moment of silence.

Obi-Wan is forced to return his stare, to watch the remainders of wavering anger in the young man’s widened blue eyes being replaced with desperation. Helplessness. And he can’t answer him. He doesn’t have an answer that’s not just an empty repetition of his regret of putting Anakin through this emotional ordeal, his wish that everything could have been done differently. It’s a helplessness of his own and it’s the last thing he wants to be feeling.

Something in Anakin’s voice breaks with his next plea. “Obi-Wan, just tell me this one thing.”

He doesn’t say that, as always, he simply had to shut off all his feelings again in order to do what was necessary, doesn’t say that Anakin’s lingering reaction is less than appropriate in the face of the Code, doesn’t say that Anakin should be able to do the same exact thing were he in such a position. If during his whole time in the Jedi Order he still hasn’t come to accept by himself that sometimes hurting his loved ones may be a necessity for the greater good, then there is no point in trying to explain that again. At least not now, when he’s so raw with emotion, hurt and ready to lash out at any given moment.

The weight on his chest grows as Anakin’s arm presses into him again, claiming, possessing him with a mere gesture. And Obi-Wan doesn’t resist, just lets out a lengthy breath of melancholic resignation.

“Anakin, you know I wouldn’t leave you willingly. I came back, didn’t I? And in one piece, at that.”

The hold around him tightens. 

Obi-Wan raises his hand to place it gingerly on Anakin’s metal one. 

“I’m sorry.” The words are almost inaudible, more of a soft stir in the Force, soothing and genuine. “Anakin, I really am. Hurting you is the last thing I want to do, you know that.”

Anakin clenches his eyes shut and nuzzles the side of Obi-Wan’s face, his demeanor dry and stiff. 

“I know. I just,” he starts, hoarse and uncertain. “I can’t lose you. You can tell me all you want about attachments and your beloved Code but you know I can’t. I need you here with me.”

Obi-Wan leans with the side of his head on Anakin’s forehead and lets out a soft breath, thumbing the knuckle joints of Anakin’s prosthetic with unhurried care, as though it were flesh in place of metal. “I’m here. I’m here now, for as long as I’m able, but that won’t be forever. Anakin, you need to learn to let go.”

“ _No._ ”

“Anakin—”

“Promise me.” At Anakin’s curt demand, Obi-Wan sighs again, a sound of exhaustion and affectionate resignation, and lets his former Padawan continue. “Promise that you will never do that again.”

The older man can’t help cracking a small smirk. “Alright, next time I try to die I’ll make sure it’s for real—”

“Obi-Wan, _promise me_ , damn it.” The weight on his chest is now gone when Anakin is propped up on his elbow and leaning over him, pinning him down with the intensity of his demanding gaze. “You have to.”

It’s all written—in the creases between Anakin’s brows, in his clenched teeth, his tightened jaw. The bags under his eyes. It’s the first time Obi-Wan really, really looks at him since his return, finally sees the traces of sleepless nights and restless days, the imprints of pained anger from the ever-building desire to be able to _do_ something. It’s this raw passion and strive, this unrestrained love that always keeps Obi-Wan wondering and guessing, amazed at how Anakin is still holding himself together with how much of himself he gives to everything that he does. He deserves so much, Obi-wan thinks, this man deserves so much more and he’s only asking for one simple thing.

And Obi-Wan can’t give it to him. Simply because he loves him, simply because he wants Anakin to have the world, he can’t promise that he won’t do everything in his power to protect him if need be. 

But Anakin desperately needs to hear what he wants. And so Obi-Wan lies to him once again.

“I promise.”

And if this is all that it takes to make Anakin let out a sigh of relief and press his trembling lips together into a tense smile, to dispel the haze of betrayal in his eyes and reveal the warmth of naive affection underneath, then the lie becomes irrelevant as Obi-Wan brings up his hand to tuck a loose lock of hair behind Anakin’s ear, relieved at seeing him melt before his very own eyes.

“I’m here now. I’m here with you,” he returns the smile, and it’s the first full, genuine one he’s given in days, and it's a sense of needed release on its own.

And his smile grows when the last of Anakin’s grim control releases its hold on him and he squeezes Obi-Wan in a sudden, tight embrace, tucking his face into the crook of his neck and letting out another long sigh, soaking up the older man’s essence and holding him close just because he finally can. Obi-Wan wraps his arms around Anakin in return, nuzzles the side of his face before pressing a warm kiss to his temple.

The Knight’s words are muffled, but Obi-Wan doesn’t need to hear him clearly to know what he’s trying to convey. It’s in the Force around them, it’s in the very gentle but clinging manner with which Anakin holds him. 

_Thank you._

And Obi-Wan closes his eyes with a loving smile playing on his lips, and simply hugs his Anakin tighter in return.


End file.
